Tumble
by justanormalgirl357
Summary: Harry leaves his broom on the Quidditch pitch and Draco takes it. Well, Harry really wants it, which is why he sort of forgets about it then... HarryDraco


Title: Tumble  
Rating: PG13  
Length: 2486, oneshot  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Genre: Romance/General  
Summary: Harry leaves his broom on the Quidditch pitch and Draco takes it. Well, Harry really wants it, which is why he sort of forgets about it then...  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
Note: Written forhpchallenge over at livejournal using the object 'broomstick.'

**

* * *

**

Harry's feet hit the ground with enough force that his hamstrings protested with a shriek of pain and his broom flung out of his grip. But Harry was clutching the withering golden snitch in his left palm, and Draco Malfoy was glaring at him, his hair windblown into his eyes, and a large crowd of ecstatic Gryffindors were racing over to him, so he didn't care.

"We won! We won!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs, jumping off his broom and hugging Harry brusquely. The next thing he knew he was being shoved from teammate to teammate. They seemed determined to embrace him till his sides burst from the pressure. Harry smiled.

Then an on slaughter of Gryffindor spectators crushed into them, smiling, laughing, hugging, kissing, and screaming. Everyone was so happy because they had just won the Quidditch cup. By ten points. Slytherin had been so far ahead of them. But Ginny shoved her way over and kissed him on the cheek. Harry blushed and stopping thinking, just letting himself get carried away in the feelings.

"Oh! Ron! Harry!" Hermione finally reached them and tried throwing her arms around the two of them at the same time, which proved to be quite difficult considering everyone was showing their delight by grabbing anyone in the vicinity. "You two were brilliant!"

Ron chuckled and tried saying something about 'what happened to Quidditch not mattering' but Ginny flung herself on his back, successfully knocking the wind out of him.

Harry pushed his way to the outer edge of the mess of people. His side hurt from getting accidentally elbowed one too many times.

Looking across the pitch he saw the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws talking animatedly between each other, glad the Slytherins had lost. Most of the Slytherins were leaving. He caught Draco's eye and couldn't help but smile widely. Draco sneered and turned around, walking back to his team.

"Woohoo!" Seamus yelled from behind him. Seamus wrapped a red flag around Harry, pulling at it enthusiastically. Harry gagged as it was around his throat. "Oops, sorry!"

Harry waved it off and pulled the flag off to look at it. There was a giant painted lion head and the words 'GO HARRY!' written in glittering gold paint. Harry tried shoving it out of sight but Seamus laughed and wrapped it around Harry's shoulder so it fell down to his knees like a cape. It was a really big flag.

"Dean painted it. Keep it," Seamus said before he dashed over to Dean and Neville.

"Par-tay!" Some seventh-year girl yelled, racing ahead of them. The cluster of Gryffindors ran after her, shouting in glee, making sure to rub it in the Slytherins they passed.

Ron and Hermione lagged behind with Harry, whose hamstrings stung too much to run. Neville stayed behind with them too. He was breathing heavily from running a bit, and he was walking funny.

"We're going to stop at the kitchen for food. Want to come with?" Ron asked, tugging Hermione forward, who gave some protest that sounded suspiciously like S.P.E.W. Harry and Ron shared an aspirated glance. Neville fingered his S.P.E.W. badge Hermione had scared him into getting and because he was too nice, left on.

"No. You guys go ahead. My legs hurt." He gestured to his leg but Ron was already running ahead, Hermione being tug by him.

"You okay?" she shouted back to him.

"Yeah!" Harry rolled his eyes at Neville, who smiled and hopped a bit.

Once the two of them reached the stone steps Harry stopped.

"Shit! I left my Firebolt behind." He turned around and headed back towards the rapidly emptying Quidditch pitch.

"Want me to come with?" Neville asked, but he crossed his legs and tilted to the right slightly.

Harry shook his head, amused. "No. Go to the loo, Neville. Just tell Ron and Hermione I went back to get my broom if they're back before me."

Neville nodded and blushed a little, then dashed off in search of the nearest bathroom.

Harry chuckled as he set off at a slow, steady pace down the grounds. The dry grass crunched under his feet. Despite the fact that it was May there was a cool breeze and Harry found he was glad Seamus had thrown the red flag around his shoulders. He pulled it closer and avoided the other students' looks as they walked past. He felt conceited wearing a flag that proudly exclaimed 'go Harry!'

By the time Harry made his way to the pitch it was nearly vacant; the last few stragglers were leaving the bounds of the field. It wasn't dark yet so Harry should have been able to see his broom on the short grass, but he couldn't find it. Swearing lightly he started to stomp off the field. Some poor sport Slytherin must have took it.

Suddenly a whooshing sound of someone on a broom filled Harry's ears. He turned around to see Draco perched on top of Harry's Firebolt, smirking down at him. Harry frowned and looked up to glare into Draco's eyes, which were hovering a heads length above him.

"You should be more careful with your possessions, Potter," he drawled, lowering the broom so his feet skimmed the grass. "Are you this responsible with your wand? It's a wonder you're not dead yet."

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy." Harry was never in the mood to listen to Draco but winning the match after he was so sure they would lose was satisfying and left him in great spirit. Plus it didn't hurt that he'd caught the snitch right behind Draco's head. "Just hand over my broom."

Draco smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting up. The smirk was much different from the one he had when Harry slowly inched his way towards him in the air. Harry smiled at the memory. His own eyes were fixed upon a point next to Draco's head, his lip caught between his teeth. Ever so carefully he had moved towards Draco, trying to not make the other boy fly and alarm the snitch. Then he'd risked a glance at Draco's face. It had the most peculiar look on it. Something between surprise and…Well, Harry didn't know what but it sure looked funny.

"What's so funny?" Draco stepped off the broom but made no movement towards handing it over. "Remembering how I nearly knocked you off your broom by simply appearing behind you."

Harry scowled, remembering all too well. "I may scare easily but at least it doesn't impair my ability to catch the snitch." He laughed. "Then again, you wouldn't be able to catch the snitch if it was attached to your arse."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Fantasizing about my arse, Potter? Sorry to say, but that's all you'll ever be doing."

Harry flushed and made a grab for the Firebolt but it was pulled away fast enough so that only his fingernails scrapped it.

Harry opened his mouth to retaliate but was saved from coming up with something sure to be lame by Draco jabbing his nose at the flag still wrapped around Harry's body, and saying, "Conceited much?"

"No more than you are," Harry shot back automatically.

His eyes were trained on the Firebolt - which Draco was keeping a safe distance away - when he saw Draco step forward and reach out between them. Harry went to step back when fingers landed on the flag and rubbed it.

"Feels warm," he muttered lowly, almost too low for Harry to hear. It was then that Harry saw Draco was shivering faintly, his fingers unusually pale against the stark brown wood of the broom handle.

Smiling and batting Draco's cold hand away, Harry said, "Yeah. Too bad you will have to suff-"

The flag around Harry was roughly tugged forward but Harry refused to move, instead meeting Draco's gaze head-on.

"I'm cold," Draco whispered.

In a voice as quiet as Draco's, Harry replied, "I don't care."

Smirking, Draco pressed his body against Harry, who gasped in shock, and started rotating around his body. Draco was halfway around Harry's body when he realized what he was doing, but the sensation of another body touching him so completely stopped him from grabbing the red flag before it rolled from his body to Draco's.

He didn't let go of the corner in his fingers though, so Draco was jerked to a halt facing Harry, twisted in the flag so his hands couldn't get free.

"Where's my broom?" Harry asked because it was easier to say that then 'you know you're pressed against me? Could you please move before you realize it doesn't bother me that much?' Plus he did want his broom back.

The flag-clad body pressed into Harry, making him bite his lip roughly then cry out in pain. Draco stopped trying to pull away and quirked an eyebrow. He pushed forward again and Harry let go of his corner of the flag.

Draco smiled and stumbled away, his movement bumpy since the flag was wrapped tightly around his legs. "You'll have to get it," he called over his shoulder.

That's when Harry noticed that a sprig of brown was peaking between Draco's legs. He had trapped himself with the broom. Harry grinned and raised his wand. "Accio Firebolt!" Of course, Harry hadn't thought the whole thing through and was rather surprised when Draco knocked him to the ground, landing on him with an "Oomph!"

Harry stared into Draco's eyes, trying to figure out why the broom hadn't slipped out of the flag to come to him. Draco shifted, effectively cutting Harry's thought process off because now the broom handle was shoved in his armpit and it hurt.

"About the game," Draco started but trailed off as he wriggled on top of Harry. Once the broom was out of his armpit Harry had to swallow a moan. He could feel Draco's fingers skittering beneath the flag and though he knew Draco wasn't even paying attention to him Harry sucked in a sharp, treacherous breath. What was wrong with his body?

"For what it's worth," Draco continued and Harry had to think feverishly to remember what he'd said before. Draco's thin, flaxen hair fell against Harry's cheek as he turned his head and shoved the broom far enough down his body to kick it out. Harry fleetingly wished he could trade places with the broom. Sliding down the other boy's body sounded awfully appealing at the moment.

"I thought you sucked." Draco's hair left his cheek when he moved to look at Harry, having finally rid himself of the Firebolt.

Harry blinked. He opened his mouth to say he never sucked though he could give it a try when the rest of Draco's sentence floated through his muddled mind to the front, which seemed to be the only working part.

"Well," Harry said, recovering since Draco had stilled on top of him, "for what it's worth," Harry blew a stray band of hair off his forehead, "what you say is worth nothing."

The same funny look Draco had on the Quidditch pitch when Harry'd inched closer was back. Only this time no surprise was mixed in it. It was just the other one. Except it didn't appear funny; it was…it made heat crawl up Harry's thighs to pool in his stomach.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry croaked.

A smirk flared across Draco's face as he unwrapped the flag from its tight grip. There was a glint in his eyes, a fierce possessive, determined look. Slowly he raised, his comfortable weight leaving Harry, who couldn't help but whimper.

But then Draco dropped down and ground their hips together. Harry gasped; he didn't expect to feel a similar hardness pressing into his.

Draco let out a faint growl that sent multiple shivers down Harry's spine as he grabbed Harry's wrists and non-too-gently shoved them into the yellow grass. Harry nipped at Draco's robe sleeve in protest but pushed his hips up. Draco mewled and ground back down.

Harry's foot hit his broom when he tried to roll atop of Draco. He leaned his head in, trying to attach their lips but Draco quickly turned his head so that the lips landed on his cheek. Harry shrugged inwardly but was subdued all the same and let Draco roll back on the top. Harry trailed his lips down the milky white neck instead. He sucked harshly, getting slightly mad that Draco wouldn't let him kiss him, at the pulse point in his neck.

Draco squirmed agreeably then swiftly stood up, leaving a fully disheveled, hard, and confused Harry lying on the ground.

Harry blinked. "What?" he mumbled in protest, wanting nothing more then to continue with his assault of the Slytherin's neck.

The broom was kicked lightly at Harry, who was too busy watching Draco's eyes jerk to his shoes then the left before he returned Harry's gaze, his eyes cynical.

"Well, if I'm worth nothing." He shrugged carelessly and strolled away, stopping to grab the flag before he left.

Harry sat up. He felt foolish; why didn't Draco feel bleary like he did? What the hell had just happened? Were they back to before? Did he really just take a tumble on the Quidditch pitch with Draco Malfoy and enjoy himself immensely?

Harry's eyes followed Draco's movement; he wasn't too far away yet. Harry could stop him if he wanted to. But all the questions were weighing him down. Something glittery caught his attention. He turned back to the hastily fading Draco to see the words 'go Harry!' on Draco's back.

Harry sighed and stood up, taking three steps toward Draco before he opened his mouth and called out, "About the game," he paused and smiled when Draco stilled, "For what it's worth, I thought you sucked too." It wasn't what Harry had wanted to say but he shrugged it off.

"Oh." Draco didn't turn around but he didn't move forward either.

Harry frowned and caught up to him.

"Aren't," Draco jumped slightly at Harry's voice being right behind him, "you going to say what I say isn't worth anything?" Because then everything would be back to before, back to normal. Harry would know where they stood and how to act.

Draco sighed wearily and turned around to peer into Harry's intense gaze.

"If you want me to lie."

Harry stared at him. He smiled hesitantly, how was he supposed to act now? Do they acknowledge the tumble in the grass?

Draco rolled his eyes and stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "Just be yourself," he whispered.

Vivid green stared into gray. "Can I kiss you?" Harry asked, recalling Draco turning his head at the last second. If they weren't back to before and Draco wouldn't kiss him, where'd they stand?

"Only if you mean it," Draco said, voice guarded. Harry hesitated only slightly before he leaned in.


End file.
